


To the Next Star

by doublejoint



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, Other, Post-Canon, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21949546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/pseuds/doublejoint
Summary: She picks them up at Mos Espa in the late evening.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey
Comments: 8
Kudos: 154





	To the Next Star

**Author's Note:**

> tros spoilers
> 
> takes place immediately after the credits roll

She picks them up at Mos Espa in the late evening, when the second sun is disappearing over the horizon and there’s a big enough spot to park the  _ Falcon _ near the outskirts. She ducks in and out of market stalls, staring straight past overeager merchants--it reminds her a little bit of home, of Niima. (So does the sand that’s blown into her hair.)

They’re losing badly at Sabacc at the only open bar, Poe trying to talk his way into a longer line of credit that he’ll eventually have to make good on and Finn giving him a very skeptical look, that only helps in terms of making it harder for Poe to dig himself deeper into debt. 

“Rey!” says Poe, catching her eye. “I’m so glad you’re here; it’s your turn—”

“No,” says Rey.

(She knows she’s just as bad as Sabacc as Poe, and they are not here to gamble away their war medals.)

“We’ll pay out,” says Finn.

Poe looks at the two of them as if they’re traitors who have conspired against him, as if they’ve robbed him of his glory and dignity. Finn snorts, as if to say,  _ like that would ever happen _ . 

“Quit doing the psychic thing,” Poe mutters as he digs through his bag to come up with the credits.

“Not psychic,” says Finn. “You know exactly what we thought.”

* * *

Rey would never call hyperspace ambient, but it makes for a better backdrop than she’s had most other evenings of her life. What’s outside the viewport doesn’t matter as much as what’s inside the  _ Falcon _ anyway, Finn listening to his  _ Learn Binary Fast  _ program and flipping through the companion booklet, BB-8 plugged in and charging, and Poe with his feet up on the Dejarik table.

“Did you do what you needed to?”

“Yes,” she says. “I did.”

“Good.”

She will tell both of them everything later; Poe can see it on her face. She’s not sitting close enough for him to comfortably reach for her hand, but he does; she scoots closer to him on the bench, covering his hand with hers. He looks tired.

“Maybe I did go a little overboard in that bar.”

It’s as close to an admission as he’s going to give.

Finn is muttering translations from the binary under his breath; if BB-8 were awake right now he’d be judging.

* * *

“You awake, Rey?” A pause. “...Rey? Skywalker?”

Rey’s not completely asleep, but the effort to open her mouth and make words come out is too much until a Finn-sized weight lands in her lap and her eyes snap open.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you.”

Rey blinks and yawns.

“Did I really wake you up?”

“No, I was only half-asleep. You’re heavy.”

He’s not, actually; he knows she doesn’t really mean it.

They’re cruising at sub-light, and she really should be watching what’s outside the viewport considering she’s still literally in the pilot’s seat, but the ship’s alert system is good and she has the Force and BB-8, and they’re in an empty part of space. They don’t need Threepio here to tell them that the odds of encountering something as harmful as a stray asteroid are too low to be reasonably calculated, despite their combined proclivity for beating the slimmest of probabilities. 

Poe is dead asleep and snoring in the copilot’s chair, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He must be having a nice dream. Rey wraps her arms around Finn’s waist, and he covers her hands with his. 

“Nice night, huh?” says Finn.

“Beautiful,” says Rey.

She’s not lying.

* * *

“It’s gonna be great,” says Finn.

BB-8 chirps his doubts. 

“Don’t say that,” says Finn. “Just watch us.”

_ Did you really understand what I said, or was it just a guess? _

Finn frowns. Then, “Hey. I did so understand.”

BB-8 looks at Rey.

“If you’re not going to help, then please don’t antagonize Finn.”

BB-8 looks as if he’s trying to find an analogue in his mechanisms to sticking out his tongue, and then rolls out of the room while Finn mutters something about it being okay to antagonize him the rest of the time.

“He’s going to do it anyway,” says Rey.

“I know,” says Finn. “Let’s get to building the bed.”

The  _ Falcon _ is Rey’s ship, but redecorating her feels wrong even now. She’s not a museum, and shouldn’t be, but she’s had her share of owners like Unkar Plutt who disrespected her, whose mistakes Rey is still fixing. Replacing the bed in the main cabin is nothing like installing a compressor, or ripping out an old converter and replacing it with a cheaper part that overheats and won’t do the job, but it’s a change that’s probably unnecessary. 

(On the other hand, thinking about the beings who have slept in the old bed before, not to mention the other things they’ve done, makes Rey wrinkle her nose and stay out of the room entirely.)

Finn alternates scrolling through the directions on the datapad again with staring at the screws in his hand. A cough sounds from the doorway; Poe is standing there, bag of freshly-purchased supplies still over his shoulder.

“BB-8 says you kicked him out, so I thought you guys might have finished and gotten to work testing this thing out.”

“Are you offering to help?” says Finn. “Because we can do it, but there is a lot to be done.”

Poe puts down his bag and crouches next to Finn, staring at the metal bars strewn across the floor.

“Gimme a wrench?”

* * *

R2 had said before they left that Naboo was where Luke’s parents had fallen in love, and it’s not hard to see why. The whole planet is gorgeous, cities and forests and underwater villages and sprawling lakeside estates and chrome starships. Rey’s own ancestors had lived here not too long ago, but there is no call of home or jolt of familiarity, no distant relation she immediately recognizes and embraces on the street. 

Rey thumbs through the Force texts; they don’t have much that she doesn’t already know, either from Luke’s library or from experience. But she can’t say she was expecting much from them, and even if she wasn’t this wouldn’t be a wasted stop.

Just a few days here has softened all of their edges, rubbed away the sleeplessness from their eyes and let them stretch out. As comfortable as they are in space, as accustomed as they are to being there full-time (especially Finn), it’s nice to stay planetside once in a while, especially if the planetside seems like the site of a vacation commercial on the HoloNet.

Finn and Poe are like a vacation commercial all by themselves right now, Poe clutching his cup of caf and leaning against the balcony door, Finn approaching his space, staring into his eyes as if he re-realizes all of this every few seconds. Poe wraps his free arm around Finn’s waist and pulls him in; the doorway’s narrow but they both fit, pressed up against each other.

“Enjoying the show?” Finn calls out, turning his head toward Rey.

Rey stares at him over the top of her book.

“Yeah, she is,” says Poe, who can’t even see her because his face is tucked into Finn’s neck. 

When they move fully onto the balcony, Rey goes back to her book (though she doesn’t get much further before they’re back, and they drag her onto the bed with them).

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
